


An Outlaws' Christmas

by Jet



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Red Hood and the Outlaws
Genre: Christmas, Gen, New 52
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:05:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jet/pseuds/Jet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason hadn't been expecting them to show up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Outlaws' Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [etre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etre/gifts).



> A Christmas gift for etre, whose only prompt was "eggnog." This pretty much ignores that prompt, too, so consider it a surprise!

Jason had burned his main Gotham safe house after that psychotic little shit - Jason was aware he didn’t have much room to talk, but still - currently calling himself Robin had attacked him in it, but he hadn’t been able to make himself abandon the city entirely. This place was intended for emergencies, and he hadn’t been in it since he’d stocked it initially. He shouldn't be in it now, either. He should go somewhere - anywhere - else, because there was no good goddamn reason for him to be in goddamn Gotham City on goddamn Christmas Eve. “Fuck,” he sighed, and went to dig out whatever alcohol he had stashed here.

He’d managed to unearth a bottle of Jack Daniels - _seriously?_ \- when he heard a knock on the door. It was highly unlikely that anyone, friendly or un-, would be looking for him here. He ignored it. After a moment, the knocking turned into a rendition of “Jingle Bells” rapped on the door. He shoved the bottle back where he’d found it, closed the cabinet, and went to open the door.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, opening the door after a quick glance verified that it was indeed Harper displaying his usual skill at being irritating. “Oh, hey, Kori,” he added belatedly as she walked up from behind a smirking Roy and handed him a bag of...Chinese food?

“Roy has assured me that this is traditional fare for your holiday of Christmas,” she told him. She was wearing a Santa hat.

“Yeah, maybe if you’re Jewish,” he muttered, giving up and standing aside as they pushed past him.

“Hey, I brought Christmas food, too,” Roy said, holding up a grocery bag. “Eggnog _and_ candy canes.” He looked around and let out a low whistle. “This place is a shithole, Jay.” 

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly expecting company,” Jason snapped.

Roy shrugged. “Been in worse places Christmas Eve.”

Kori was wandering around the living room slash kitchenette, examining the drab walls and boxes of supplies piled on the utilitarian furnishings with an air of fascinated disgust. “It is a good thing you planned to ‘bring the cheer,’ Roy,” she said, turning back to them. “I do not believe Jason has prepared for this holiday at all.”

Roy held up the other, much larger, bags he was holding. They jingled, and Jason could see greenery poking out the top. “Got everything we need right here,” he said cheerfully.

“Oh shit, you did _not_ come here to decorate my apartment.” Jason tried for a glare, but couldn’t stop the edges of his mouth from turning up.

“Just spreading the cheer, Jaybird.” Roy ignored it as Jason flipped him off. “Got a hammer somewhere in this mess?” He nudged a box of ammo with his foot.

*

Two hours later found them sprawled together on the couch, watching Charlie Brown. The apartment looked almost cheerful, lit by the colorful blinking lights strung along the walls and the tiny fiber-optic Christmas tree perched on a pile of ammo boxes. A garland ran along the ceiling, punctuated at random by bows in a pattern that Kori had carefully determined, and three stockings were nailed to the wall above the radiator.

“See, I have the best ideas,” Roy declared, waving the last egg roll at the the room for emphasis. “Right, Kori?”

“I have found these holiday preparations amusing,” Kori allowed, frowning at the tv. She seemed to find the cartoon characters deeply fascinating.

Jason snorted. “I guess it could have been worse.” He snagged another potsticker. “Thanks, Harper.”

Roy shrugged, turning the movement into an excuse to stretch his arm along the back of the couch, just below Kori’s shoulders. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Three of us should stick together, right?”

Jason smirked, and slid his own arm behind Kori’s back, shoving Roy’s out of the way. Kori gave him a baffled look. “Right.”

*

Mid-morning the next day, after gifts had been exchanged - 

(“I hope you weren't expecting presents, Harper,” Jason had said as he handed Kori another bow to hang, “because I didn’t get you anything.” That was a lie. He had gifts for both of them, but he hadn’t intended to make it a _thing_ , and they were sitting in his bag on his bed.

Kori frowned down at him. “I was told that the exchange of gifts was the most important aspect of the holiday.”

“I’d say your very presence is a gift to us,” Roy said, rolling his eyes, “but if you don’t want to disappoint Kori, pull some shit out of one of these piles and wrap it. Paper’s in the bag.” Jason shrugged at him, and Roy pretended not to notice as Jason disappeared into the bedroom a few minutes later, taking the wrapping paper with him.)

\- there was a loud thump at the door. Roy paused in his showing off of the silk shirt Kori had give him (she’d given Jason a snow globe with a tropical scene inside, because, she’d explained, Jason already dressed himself appropriately and Roy had said gifts with sentimental value were also allowed) and they both looked to him. “Expecting someone?” asked Roy.

“Nah,” Jason said, shoving a gun into his belt, “guess I’d better see who it is.”

The alleyway outside was deserted, but when he opened the door he caught sight of a small package sitting outside. He nudged it with his foot, relaxing as he saw the symbol outlined on the note that was pinned to the box - a stylized bird’s head inside a circle. He picked up the box and flipped the note over.

 _Saw you have company. Hope there’s enough._ It was unsigned. Jason immediately began tearing the box open, though he knew what it was already by the smell. “Heh,” he muttered, grinning as he caught sight of the glistening cherries on top. Alfred might suck at waffles, but somehow he made fruitcake actually delicious. Alfred’s special Christmas fruitcake had been the highlight of his whole fucking _year_. “What makes you think I’m going to share it?” He looked up at the empty alleyway. “It’s...appreciated.” He made a vague gesture of acknowledgement at the roof line, and stepped back inside.


End file.
